


Awakening: a pas de deux

by odysseus



Category: Murder Most Unladylike Series - Robin Stevens
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, Canon Compliant, Costume Parties & Masquerades, F/F, Gay Panic, POV First Person, also uhhhhh daisy dressing up as a young lad + dancing w hazel in a fancy ball is. Good, this was just an excuse to have a hazel wong gay awakening fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 09:36:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19248544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/odysseus/pseuds/odysseus
Summary: She looks at me, her piercing eyes glittering in adrenaline-fueled excitement, and I suddenly remembered that we were detectives in an investigation, and I was not a girl who had fallen in love with a mysterious young boy- who was my best friend in disguise.





	Awakening: a pas de deux

**Author's Note:**

> PROPS TO THE Wells & Wongs discord for this wonderful idea that i have soiled with my... Inadequate Hands (tm)  
> discord code: JU7phXa! B)

   We were sitting in a hotel room. Daisy’s maid, Hetty, had to meet Lord Hasting’s for a short briefing on what would happen tomorrow, which made it a perfect cover for our impromptu Detective Society meeting. We ran through our small list of suspects on the threatening note slipped under Lady Daxton’s pillow and talked about the masquerade that was happening soon tomorrow- or today, seeing as the midnight mood has fallen upon us. Then, Daisy speaks up, brows knitted and her graceful, thin hands on my own stubby ones.

“Watson… I’m… Well, I’m afraid I won’t be able to investigate with you,” Daisy said. I looked up at her, confused.

All of a sudden, I feel a weight come down upon my chest, constricting and turning in terrible anxiety. It should not be that way, since I had taken over Daisy’s presidential role once in Hong Kong, and I have had plenty of opportunities to work by myself- but all of them had Daisy in them, one way or another. This would be my first ever investigation without my friend, and everything came down on me at once. What if I missed an important clue? What if I could not escape from situations that prevent me from watching a suspect?

“What do you mean?”  I whispered out, “It wouldn’t be a Detective Society investigation without you!”

“I know that, Hazel!” Daisy hushed, gripping my hands, “but you know how much this means to my father- to my family! Ever since Fallingford, we…”

Her voice trailed off, strong at the start and yet weak at the end. I knew fully well of how scandals, especially those of crime, that happens within wealthy families go, especially since I have had my own share, especially with my own mother back in Hong Kong. It was natural that her father would want to try and gain some of their reputation back- I know that my father would take the chance to do that, if there was. I sighed, my shoulders going slack.

“I understand, Daisy,” I said, but she shook her head, her determination strengthened.

“You may have to go and investigate this alone for a while,” she said, lifting up her chin, “but since you _are_ the Vice President, I trust that you’re capable of yourself. I will not be able to investigate with you-”

“You told me that just now, Daisy-”

“But!” She raised her voice, leaning forward, “Aunt Lucy hasn’t been teaching me about disguises and make up for nothing.” Her lips curl into a mischievous grin, and I paused for a second, letting the words settle in.

“You can’t mean…”

“Well, all Daisy Wells has to do is stay prim and proper in her seat, but I’m sure someone else- perhaps a friend of the Detective Society, will be able to help you, right?

Daisy had briefed me on the plan on that day, though she had not said anything more than “Watch out for a young boy named Alastair, who will talk about a _pas de deux_.” It felt very similar to one of the secret codes she has read in her spy books- which was an absolutely Daisy thing to do. I took note of it, running the words ‘ _pas de deux_ ’ in my head like I was studying very hard for a test, though in Deepdean you have to look like you are studying hard, but not too hard, else you be labelled a swot.

The doubts still rang in my head, and I tossed and turned uneasily in my sleep while Daisy slept like a log beside me. I turned over, closing my eyes and repeating the words in my head. It was not long before day washed over the dark, overcast skies of London, and the sound of automobiles traipsing across the cobblestone roads.

Hetty woke us up by drawing the curtains open, and we obediently scuttered to separate corners of the room to prepare us for the ball. I was lucky to be allowed to enter the ball due to my friendship with Daisy, but then I remembered what had been said the night before, and the crushing nervousness about working alone without Daisy until she was able to come for me. I looked at Daisy, who was already dolled up by Hetty; her hair was in an elaborate chignon updo, fastened with a nice sparkling pin, and she was wearing a nice, pink dress with a white belt and buckle. Daisy is always stunningly beautiful, that has been a fact through and through, especially in Deepdean, where blonde, English girls like her hold power. I looked at myself in the mirror, with my still-chubby cheeks clearly emphasized with the bun that Hetty had done for me, and the unflattering green velvet dress I donned, and wished that I was as half as beautiful as her.

“Come on now, girls!” Hetty exclaimed, clapping her hands together, “it’s not every day that you get to attend a ball!”

Daisy squeezed my hand, as she is prone to when she wants to give assurance to someone, and I squeezed back. Hand-in-hand, we followed Hetty out of the safety of our hotel room into the unknown, huge walls of the first level ballroom with the company of Lord Hastings, Daisy’s father.

“Now, do you remember the codeword?” Daisy whispered to me, trying her best to keep a straight, stern face. However, I noticed the slightly concealed excitement twinkling in Daisy’s eyes, and I smiled, comforted by her presence already.

“Yes, I remembered,” I replied, " _Pas de deux'_ , right?”

“Well done!” Daisy cried, and then clapped her hands over her mouth as Hetty turned towards us. We lowered our heads, and continued our journey to the ballroom, soundless this time.

* * *

   Ballrooms are familiar and yet strange to me. I have been to a few ballrooms thanks to my father, but they were red, white and gold and mostly used for sitting and talking to businessmen and businesswomen alike. London ballrooms were much different. They had room for dancing guests and orchestras, the sides were chock-filled with drinks and food, and it was lively and much less sterile, with people chattering, standing up with a champagne glass in hand. I stared at the scene that lay before me in awe, while Daisy seemed to look unfazed- in fact, she seemed to be dreading the invigorating sight.

“Now, Daisy dearest,” Lord Hastings said, his eyes still crinkling in a smile, “Follow me, will you? We have to converse with a few of our old friends. Hetty, if you may?”

“Yes, Lord Hastings,” Hetty said, gently placing her hands on my shoulders.

“Yes, Daddy,” Daisy nodded, folding her hands together in the most ladylike way. “I’ll see you soon, Hazel.”

Then, she mouthed the words “codeword”, and I nodded in reply. I would be sticking with Hetty for quite awhile if I did not do anything about it, so once I saw the smallest blot of yellow disappear in a sea of black, white and gold, I immediately beckoned Hetty to dance with me. Hetty laughed, tilting her head, and I mustered my best Daisy impression in order to convince her.

“You said so yourself, didn’t you, Hetty? It’s not every day that you attend a ball!” I said, fluttering my eyelashes like Daisy would. Hetty looked at me, frowning, but then she softened up after a moment.

“Oh, well, I suppose one dance wouldn’t hurt,” Hetty said, laughing as I guided her across the ballroom floor as well as I could. It definitely seemed funny to the other guests to see a small, Oriental child dancing with a perfectly English maid, but if they had qualms about it, they did not speak out. I suppose it was the entire mood of the ball- it made people want to dance, no matter who they are.

While I was pretending that I was cheerfully dancing with Hetty, I was keeping an ear out for suspicious exchanges between the hotel guests. Lady Daxton was clearly shaken, whispering in upset to her husband, Lord Daxton, who was doing her best to comfort her. Duke Miller interrupted their little rendezvous, pulling Lady Daxton away for a dance. I pulled Hetty and I closer to the duo, spinning her around the best a young teenager would be able to. I heard the slightest bit of conflict.

“..Letter… big deal…”

“Report… Not safe… You must…”

“But…!”

Before long, they disappeared into the crowd, and I scrunched up my nose in frustration. This time, Hetty had soothed into the rhythm of the waltz of the Wiener Blut, and it was my turn to be spun around. I painted the picture of Lady Daxton’s frantic expression and Duke Miller’s stern and furious look, and then I spun back around, facing Lord Daxton and Lady Hathersage.

“Ought to... lesson…”

“No… Support…!”

“Yes… Frivolous… Lady Daxton…”

I closed my eyes, letting myself get lost in the sounds of the ballroom. The sound of the orchestra washed over me, and as they swelled, the voices of the suspects swelled in unison.

“It seems you lovely young ladies are having fun dancing around here?”

A voice pierced through my thoughts and my collections from out of the blue, snapping me out of my concentration. I turned my head towards the source of the voice, and I saw a young man  -- around my age, perhaps, with a lanky body and legs too tall for his pants -- with piercing blue eyes and curly, blonde hair tucked inside of a hat. He smiles at Hetty, and then at me- his smile lingering longer than usual. I suddenly feel a pang of familiarity from this new boy. Alexander?

“Well, yes, we’re having plenty of fun dancing,” I said, straightening my posture and looking at him. The boy smiled, gently taking my hand in his.

“The name’s Alastair, miss…?”

“Hazel,” I replied, a little too quickly. My heart lightens from the fact that this is not Alexander, but a weight still remains- a familiarity reeking of squashed flies and bunbreaks.

“Well, if I may, H- miss?” The boy, now known as Alastair asked, glancing up at Hetty, who has let my hand go. She laughed, looking at me with a sparkle in her eye. I restrained the urge to roll my eyes in the most Daisy-like manner.

“I shall be near the drinks if you need me, Hazel,” Hetty said before walking off- yet another disappearing into the sea of waltzing people.

Alastair took the hand already in his grasp and lifted it up, his hand on my waist- and with a push, we spiraled around the dance floor, positioning us right near the currently arguing Duke Miller and Lady Hathersage. I kept up my pace with the new boy, and, a little ashamed to report, did not remember to take note of the details of their argument. All I could remember was that they were arguing about something in someone’s drink, and the woman furiously beckoned the Duke to sit down.

“What a lovely _pas de deux_ we have, don’t we?” he said, smiling.

Then, I suddenly remembered the Detective Society meeting Daisy and I had the night before- the codeword, the name, everything. I look at Alastair, with Daisy's sharp jaw that looked a little bit too contoured by make up, her piercing blue eyes, almond-shaped like they had always been, and perfectly groomed eyebrows in an arch. However,  I was stuck on her eyes, for they were so blue, and so bright, and for a second I forgot that we were detectives in an investigation.

“A lovely one indeed,” I mumbled my reply, suddenly feeling flustered and self-conscious about my appearance. Did I look nice in front of Alastair- Daisy? Did she think I was acting or looking funny? Did she think I did not realize she was Daisy, and thus think I am a chump for not realizing?

I did not realize her gentle expression, nor did I realize the confused look at my bafflement, but the two of us did realize something was amiss.

Daisy and I often discussed our cases far after they were over, and in every case, apart from the one with Miss Bell, there always was something to indicate wrongdoing. A scream, an exclamation, a shout -- the thing in common with these sounds, are that they are loud and attention-grabbing, that we have coined a code name for it.

The Scream.

And there was The Scream, indeed.

Daisy instantly dropped her act as Alastair, and our dance slowed to a halt while everyone else continued in their fervent waltz. She looks at me, her piercing eyes glittering in adrenaline-fueled excitement, and I suddenly remembered that we were detectives in an investigation, and I was not a girl who had fallen in love with a mysterious young boy- who was my best friend in disguise.

“The game’s afoot, Watson!” Daisy whisper-shouted in my ear, and I flinched, grimacing yet relieved at the broken tension. Without much consideration for my footing or what had just happened, Daisy dragged me along in her most Daisy-like manner, our ears tuned into the location of the sound.


End file.
